


Conversations

by Everyday_Im_Preaching



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged Up! Pidge, Aged-Up Character(s), Comfort, Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Important Conversations, Unspecified Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12422265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyday_Im_Preaching/pseuds/Everyday_Im_Preaching
Summary: Pidge begins to covet the idea of settling down, whilst Shiro balks at it.





	Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Look! A NEW ship!  
> If you like this ship, or if there's any specific voltron ship you'd like to see (except Klance) please let me know in the comments below! Or, if you just enjoyed this fic and want to see more like it in the future, I'd also appreciate a comment!

 

“Pidge?” Shiro’s voice was soft, and she had a hard time ignoring it. She turned her head, catching the reflection of the older man in her glasses. “You aren’t okay.” 

Pidge shook her head, fixing her glasses with a tiny nudge. Long, seemingly endless years of training had turned a bookish, slight girl into a wiry and lithe woman—Shiro had nothing but respect for the youngest Holt, who had proven time after time that her physical ability was as sharp as her wit. But even the strong needed time to rest, and occasionally a friendly ear.

“How long did it take for you to figure that out?” Pidge asked; it was meant to be sharp and snappish, but fell flat, sounding alone and scared. “I’m just so tired, Shiro.” 

The black paladin stepped into the room fully, letting the door slide shut behind him. 

“You want to talk about it?” Shiro asked, letting his arms dangle on either side of him, limp and unsure of where to place themselves. Pidge lifted her head slightly, before closing her eyes and letting out a soft breath. 

“There’s not much to talk about it. It’s just… it’s been years, Shiro.  _ Years.  _ And it still feels like I’m still dealing with the same teenagers that I took down Zarkon with.” Pidge pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’d think that they’d have matured.”

“Lance and Keith, then,” Shiro said with a grunt, sitting down on the nearby couch. “They’re allowed to have fun,” he told her, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

Pidge turned to face the black paladin, face showing no expression one way or another. “Shiro, they were fighting over pudding this morning.  _ Pudding.  _ It was like walking into two feral dogs fighting over raw meat.” She leaned against her desk, cocking an eyebrow at her leader.

“Pudding is a very serious subject, Pidge,” Shiro told her, keeping his face as expressionless as hers. He couldn’t hold it for long, before letting out a laugh. “Okay, yeah. They’re a little immature. But they’re twenty-year olds.”

“I’m a twenty-year old,” Pidge stated dryly, walking over to him. 

Shiro let out a soft, unsure noise, tilting his head this way and that. Pidge stared at him, daring him to say anything different. Reaching up with his Galra hand, he gently plucked at a loose, playful strand of hair that had slipped from behind Pidge’s ear. “You,  _ Katie… _ ” Shiro looked at her, cupping her face. “…You are.”

“I am?” Pidge questioned. Shiro nodded confidently. “What am I?”

“Older than twenty,” Shiro confirmed, leaning up to press a kiss to her chin.

Pidge rolled her eyes, shaking his grip loose so she could flop on the couch beside him. He laid his arm across her shoulders. He ran his thumb over the smooth curve of it, catching on her shirt when it slid back up. 

“You’re too sweet, coming to check on me,” Pidge told him, snuggling closer and resting her head on his chest. 

Shiro shrugged, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You seemed agitated; I couldn’t just let you go to bed angry. Especially not over something as silly as Keith and Lance—” Noting her dissatisfied expression, he shook his head. “—You know it’s not worth it.” 

“I guess,” Pidge grumbled, closing her eyes and ignoring the way her glasses were pressed askew.

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” Shiro asked, moving his hand to play with the ends of her erratic hair. Pidge didn’t answer, pressing her face tighter to the older paladin’s chest. “Katie.” 

“Is it ever going to be over?” Pidge asked, voice muffled and quiet against Shiro’s chest. Shiro gently hummed, staring at the wall opposite them. There was a mess of wires taped into small bundles with different coloured tape, all marked with a combination of letters and numbers that Shiro couldn’t decipher. Not easily, at least. 

“Are you asking about the war?” Shiro asked, shifting so he could sit lower on the couch. Pidge’s shoulder jumped in a shrug. “I imagine that it will be, someday. But I can’t say that it’ll be over in our lifetime.”

Pidge let out a huff of breath, obviously displeased with his answer. 

“Something tells me—and this is just a guess—that that’s not what you wanted to hear.” Shiro used his free hand to pinch Pidge’s chin; he then slid a finger beneath it, tilting her head up to look at him. “What’s wrong? I never thought I’d see the day that you’d want to leave.”

Pidge shook her head, turning it away from Shiro. There was silence as she rose from the couch, fingers clenched into fists. 

“Katie.”

“Look, before… before you and I started…” Pidge unclenched her fists, letting trembling fingers brush her thighs. “...Before we became a thing, I didn’t think it was possible, but. It’s…” Pidge ran a hand through her hair, letting an agonisingly painful stretch of silence. She sighed, letting all of the tension slip from her body.“...Stupid. Wishful thinking.”

Pidge walked back up to her console, summoning the darkened screen with a gentle swipe of her fingers. Shiro furrowed his brow, before raising one at her. He crossed his arms across his chest, tapping his fingers against his Galran limb.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Shiro asked, keeping his eyes focused on the wall.

Pidge’s fingers paused, and she let her hand fall. “I… I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to just have time for the two of us. Not just a couple hours, or a couple evenings curled up on your bed or mine. I mean, years. While we’re still young.” She scratched at her desk, mouth screwing into a frown. “I guess it’s kind of selfish, but I want you to myself. Not forever, not entirely.” Her nose scrunched up in thought. “But you know. Mostly. Mostly to myself.” 

“I see.” Shiro folded his hands in his lap, turning his eyes up to the ceiling.

“But I don’t want to—no, I  _ can’t  _ come between you and… well, Voltron.” Pidge slid down, bending down at an uncomfortable angle to prop her chin in her hand. “I mean, they’d be lost without you.”

Shiro sat up, letting out a sigh. He clasped his hands betwixt his knees, staring at his palms. “You’ve been thinking about this for awhile, haven’t you.” It wasn’t as much of a question, as it was a statement.

Pidge flicked her eyes over to Shiro, then back at her screen. “A couple months now.” She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear, squeezing her eyes shut. “I know the safety of the universe comes first.”

“Katie, I love you,” Shiro murmured gently. Pidge nodded, shifting her weight from foot-to-foot tiredly. “And I know it’s hard.” He got up from the couch, crossing the space between them.

Shiro wound his arms around her, pressing his cheek against his shoulder. “And I’m sorry.” He shifted, now pressing his forehead against her instead. Pidge stiffened. “But we’re not going to be here forever—this castle, this space. This life we’re living—it’s not forever. We’re not going to be young enough for this forever.”

“Shiro,” Pidge muttered, feeling one of his hands sneak up to grab hers. He squeezed it gently, before entwining their fingers.

“One day, you’ll have me all to yourself. I promise,” Shiro told her as he kissed the side of her neck, lips whispering against her skin. “But not yet.”

“When won’t we be young enough?” Pidge asked. “How long will we have left, when we’re not young enough?” She looked down at their entwined fingers. “What if something happens in between now and then?” 

Shiro frowned against Pidge’s neck.

“Nothing is going to happen,” Shiro promised, a smile easing into his voice. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked, squeezing her hand. Pidge flexed the fingers that Shiro was holding, and he moved his hand up to squeeze her arm. “Hey, look at me.”

Pidge slowly turned her head to look at Shiro, and he pressed a chaste, gentle kiss to her lips.

“I don’t want to spend the next thirty or forty years sneaking into each others rooms, Shiro,” Pidge told him, tone bordering on cold as she caught Shiro’s eyes with her own.

“Who says we have to sneak?” Shiro asked, turning Pidge around to face him. A faux smile had cracked it’s way across his face. “Everyone already knows.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Pidge told him pointedly, not backing down from his steady, unwavering gaze.

Shiro nodded, looking away from her. “I know.”

“I love you too, Shiro,” Pidge told him, reaching a hand up to play with the white tuft of hair atop his head. “We should get to bed. It’s getting late, and there’s training in the morning.”

“We need to talk more about this,” Shiro said, leaning down and brushing his lips across the bridge of her nose. 

“Then let’s call it pillow talk. Come on.” Pidge ducked under his arm, hooking his bicep part of the way through and dragging him along with her as she went toward the door. 

Shiro, in turn, grabbed at her shoulder and stopped her. His voice was gentle as he spoke. “We’re going to have enough time. I promise.”

“I hope you’re right,” she replied, just as quiet. Shiro dragged her into his arms, wrapping her in a too-tight, all-encompassing hug. His lips found her eyelids, the bridge of her nose and then the tip of it—they explored her cheeks and the sharp line of her jaw in equal measure, getting soft giggles from her.

“Are you happy with me?” Shiro asked earnestly. “Here?”

“Of  _ course.  _ Of course I’m happy with you. And here. I love it here, I just.” Pidge ran a hand through her hair, mussing it further. “As hard as this is to believe, I don’t want to spend every second of my youth either running for my life or being constantly exhausted.”

“I like to think that it’s not all work,” Shiro told her, kissing at the curve of her ear. Pidge rolled her eyes, shoving at Shiro’s shoulders. He pressed close to her, letting his breath warm her earlobe.

“That’s part of the  _ being exhausted,” _ Pidge said, hooking her arms around his neck. 

Shiro kissed at the corner of Pidge’s mouth. “How about I beg Allura for a vacation? We could take a few weeks off, maybe sit on a beach somewhere.”

“And get sunburnt,” Pidge told him, turning her neck up to let Shiro press his lips against her pulse. “Because we never see the sun around here.”

“We see suns plenty, we just don’t sunbathe,” Shiro said, burying his face back into her shoulder. 

“Do you think that Allura would really approve a vacation?” Pidge asked, lacing her fingers together.

Shiro shrugged. “If I pout enough, yeah. I think I could swing it.” He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He raised a hand and twisted it into Pidge’s hair. “Want to come to my room tonight, or should we go to yours?”

“I vote yours—it’s cleaner. And bigger.” Pidge pursed her lips. “At least the bed is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, you made it! Welcome to the end of the fic!
> 
> Want to stay updated? Click [here](http://everyday-im-preaching.tumblr.com/) to stay in the know!


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